


Him, by the Chessboard

by silurica



Series: Look to Love, Always [24]
Category: Fallen London | Echo Bazaar
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28333059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silurica/pseuds/silurica
Summary: An encounter with the ruthless reflection of a beloved. It is not him, yet it is him.
Series: Look to Love, Always [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2068755





	Him, by the Chessboard

Today, too, Aleksei makes his way to the Moonlit Chessboard. The path forward has learned his presence, opening up before the tree branches and roots can catch the many-layered veils covering him. He departed with his usual intention: from here, where the impossible dwells, he will influence events to help his beloved.

When he arrives, the first thing to catch his sight isn’t the board itself, but a familiar figure standing by it. Slicked back hair, a _haori_ softening his silhouette. As Aleksei closes their distance, as his veils come shedding off, the smell of freshly brewed tea grows stronger. “Chizuru-han? What are you doing here?”

The figure turns around. Not him. He wears the same smell and smile, but it’s not him. This Chizuru has both of his eyes. “I am me. This is where I belong. And you?” He asks, “Are you Alyosha?”

The veils thickened again. “…Chizuru-han never calls me that.”

“So you are the one who came from the other side.” He sits on a fallen pawn and sighs. “You have become more like my Alyosha now, and I have yet to see him in a while. Have you thought about that? How you have overstayed your welcome? What if my Alyosha never comes back?”

The hands in contact with the pawn begin to drip red. Blood? Whose blood? If this was the Chizuru he knew, Aleksei would have rushed over to make sure the man hasn’t hurt himself again. Instead he asks, “Your Alyosha? What are you talking about? What _are_ you?”

The man gives a deep stare, then a smile. “I’m Chizuru. More precisely, I’m the Chizuru repressed by the ‘real’ Chizuru. Tucked deep in his mind, given form in this land.” He stands and climbs to the board, offering a crimson hand to his guest. “Come. You came here for a game, did you not? The pieces have yet to gather, but we can chat while we wait.”

No response. Met with silence, he shrugs and walks over to E8. There, he continues, “Well, it’s not that I have forgotten about me. You have seen it too, haven’t you? My efficiency, or as my other self would put it, my ruthlessness. Things would be so much better if he would just embrace me.”

“Do you really believe that?” asks Aleksei. He tries to look into the red-handed Chizuru’s eyes, but the pieces have started to gather, obstructing his view.

The pieces chatter idly, and Chizuru joins them, measuring allegiances before the game begins. When Aleksei thought he would not receive an answer, the red-handed speaks in a quiet voice, “Perhaps not.” He admits, “But it’s in my nature to wonder if the alternative could be better.”

“I see,” mutters Aleksei under his veils. “I suppose I will take a day off today.”

“Goodbye, then.”

It is still Chizuru, after all. And if this is Chizuru, then the nickname he uses…

“Yes, he wished to call you that.” The red-handed answers before the question could be voiced, “And I will call you that in this dream world, in place of my earnestly awkward self.”

The veils covering him begin to come off again. Before anyone sees, he turns around with a parting wish, “I hope your Alyosha will come back soon.”


End file.
